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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071510">Deck the Walls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunabelieves/pseuds/lunabelieves'>lunabelieves</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zombieland (2009 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Snowball Fights</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 08:49:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunabelieves/pseuds/lunabelieves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas in Zombieland</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Columbus/Tallahassee (Zombieland)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Deck the Walls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Where he got the lights, Columbus didn't want to know. Probably the basement of one of the houses they had stayed in over the past few months. Add to that list why the lights even worked (though he had his suspicions that there had been some hot wiring involved in there somewhere and that was a bit of scary thought in itself, knowing that Tallahassee could probably hotwire anything in a pinch). However it had happened, the obviously desired effect had been achieved, the front of the Hummer now glowing with the little colorful lights.</p><p>Tis' the season, it seemed. Even in Zombieland.</p><p>Having Halloween had at least made a little sense, the world now being like their own private haunted house. Thanksgiving was kind of a given too. After surviving so long, you had to be thankful for some things (canned pumpkins and hollow points?). But Christmas and the cheer it brought had no place in Z-land. Christmas was a happy time (as aware as Columbus was about the suicide statistics that had once accompanied the holiday), a joyous time. A time for children and the child inside everyone. It didn't belong in a world where most of the population was now hungering for their flesh. But when he tried to argue the point, Tallahassee had glared him down.</p><p>"It's a rule now. #32." He'd pointed out. "Meaning we're gonna enjoy the little things about Christmas."</p><p>Meaning the front of the Hummer had been decorated with festive, blinking Christmas lights and the music found in the glove compartment had taken on a decidedly yuletide flavor. Some of them given a very Tallahassee flair if they bored him. But the problem was that these modified carols would get stuck inside the killer's noggin and once there, they stayed there. Even whilst he prepared his latest scheme to get Zombie Kill of the Week.</p><p>"Deck the walls with lots of zombies…" The man hummed, swinging a hatchet over one shoulder. Columbus could only wonder what kind of carnage would ensue once they entered the store.</p><p>--</p><p>--</p><p>It was late when they exited, both covered in various states of gore. The sky dark and tiny white flakes falling from the sky, though they looked more like ash in spite of everything.<br/>"Huh, snow," He didn't bother sharing his thoughts about it and breaking the joyful mentality.</p><p>"What'd ya know? Gonna be a white Christmas after all."</p><p>"Don't think it'll get too bad?" Snow meant ice, ice meant icy roads which in turn meant the possibility of dying a horrible death via motor vehicle.</p><p>"Can find somewhere to stop along the way if you're too worried." Tallahassee's face was cocked skyward, as if contemplating the little flakes. "Hope some of it sticks. Haven't had me a good snowball fight in-"<br/>It got quiet, as Columbus knew it sometimes did these days when the older man thought about what he'd lost. Blue eyes would glaze over and it seemed like all the sound in the world would just halt so he could have a private moment. No, that wasn't right. More like it was sucked away by grief.</p><p>Thankfully, they never lasted long enough to require a conversation about them, so the kid supplied, "I've never had a snowball fight."</p><p>"Never had a-shit, you grow up in a cave or something?"</p><p>"Well, no. I mean, I've had snowballs thrown at me, but I've never actually participated in an actual-"</p><p>"Tomorrow, if that snow's layin' thick, yer gonna have an actual snowball fight." It sounded almost more like a threat then a promise, so Columbus could only nod.</p><p>--</p><p>--</p><p>The world outside was a picture of white the next morning and he barely gets a chance to admire the majesty of the winter morn before he is all but bodily dragged out into the cold and plunked down in the snow.</p><p>"Don't have to show you how to make a snowball, do I?"</p><p>"No," He knew that much. Even having never actually been invited to join a snowball fight, he wasn't THAT inept.<br/>A pair of worn mittens were tossed into his lap, the thumb missing from the left one. Tallahassee had clearly claimed the nicer pair for himself,  the kind that snow just seemed to roll right off of and never got wet or soggy. Meaning he could just keep the shots coming and Columbus would probably worry about his hands getting chapped or frostbite or something equally silly.<br/>He didn't have time to pout about his gloves though, because the other man was already grabbing handfuls of snow and twisting them into rounded forms. So he did the only thing he could do; ducked behind the Hummer and peered out.</p><p>"So that's how you wanna play? Alright, we're gonna play!"</p><p>A snowball whizzed by his head, close enough to feel the chill and vanished somewhere behind him. The next one exploded into powder against the Hummer's mirror and seemed to be what finally got Columbus' hands moving to grab a handful of snow, mold it and chuck it. Sure, he had to move from his hiding spot to do so, but seeing it collide with the back of Tallahassee's jacket was worth it. Not that he stayed in the open to do a victory dance. He had been spotted and just missed the one hurled at his leg.<br/>"Hold still, ya little spitfuck!"</p><p>It wasn't likely he'd be staying still any time soon, with the snow being tossed at him. He knew what his strengths were, one of them being that he was fast. Fast enough to avoid the shots and get in a few of his own till he did the unthinkable. Knowing Tallahassee would never let up till he was buried under a mountain of the powder, he decided he would go down on his own terms. Rushing out from behind then Hummer and tackling the man into the snow, sending up a little cloud of it when they landed.</p><p>He expected a growl of anger to emanate from the man, but a mighty laugh was the only thing that came forth.</p><p>"Gotta say, fer some one who's never had a snowball fight, you sure look like you know what yer doin'."</p><p>"Really, it's the first time-" He protested. It hadn't sunk in yet that he was still perched on Tallahassee's chest like a damn bird.  Still riding the high from his kamikaze strike.</p><p>"Gonna have to keep an eye on you. Yer a crazy lil' son of a bitch."</p><p>Crazy. He never would have used that word to define himself before. It was a word he usually reserved for Tallahassee alone. But then, after surviving for so long and the Pacific Playland incident, Columbus supposed he deserved to be called crazy every now and again.</p><p>"Gonna sit there all day or ya gonna help me up?"</p><p>"Oh," He got to his feet fast and offered up a hand. For a moment, it looked as if both of them would end up in the snow again, Tallahassee being heavier then he was, but the cowboy found his footing and they both turned to head back into the little house. But something made Columbus paused. There was something tacked in the doorway he hadn't noticed on the way outside, a little sprig of fake mistletoe hanging from a red ribbon. Most likely left up all year round so no one had to climb a ladder to get it down.</p><p>"Huh," He muttered. His traveling companion heard the sound and looked up.</p><p>"That's the stuff yer supposed to kiss under, right?"</p><p>"Well, yeah, but I mean-"</p><p>"You don't defy tradition."</p>
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